


Tell Daddy I Said Hello

by BloodStainsBlue



Category: DCU
Genre: Daddy Issues, Everyone wants Dick Grayson, M/M, Masquerade Ball, Some pretty dark themes but nothing explicitly stated, Vague Universe, Vauge timeline, What is continuity?, alcohol consumption, but not a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:38:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9697898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodStainsBlue/pseuds/BloodStainsBlue
Summary: Dick doesn’t know the name of the song that’s playing, but he knows he should. Just like he doesn’t know the name of the man in front of him, who’d dragged him to the dancefloor by the cuff of his tuxedo, but he should. He blames too many flutes of champagne that he shouldn’t have been drinking, knows Bruce will lecture him later, but he doesn’t care.





	

            Dick doesn’t know the name of the song that’s playing, but he knows he _should._ Just like he doesn’t know the name of the man in front of him, who’d dragged him to the dancefloor by the cuff of his tuxedo, but he _should._ He blames too many flutes of champagne that he shouldn’t have been drinking, knows Bruce will lecture him later, but he doesn’t care.

            He’s thankful that the charity gala Bruce is holding is a masquerade ball—it allows him to hide the far-away sheen to his eyes, allows him to hide the fact that he’s not _there_ , not really.

            The man who dragged him onto the dancefloor is taller than him, broader than him, but not by much in either respect. He’s built like a fighter—Dick wonders what he’s doing here. But he also knows every step to this choreographed dance, better than Dick does right now.

            Dick knows which arm to raise and when, when to step left and right, but his body always does it a second too late, has to wait for the notes to cue him instead of moving to the music.

            Dick doesn’t know where Bruce is, but he’s sure he’s watching him, because the elder man is _always_ watching him. Even in his own home, which Dick knows should be worrying, but it makes him feel safer, even as he does weekly sweeps of his room to get rid of any too-obvious cameras only for them to be replaced within a couple of days.

            He _does_ know where Tim is, can feel his eyes drilling into his back when the man who he’s dancing with suddenly pulls him close and presses their body together. It feels like being shoved into a brick wall, like Bruce pulling him in during patrol when a bullet comes too close to his skin.

            He feels like _Robin_ again, the alcohol making his muscles feel weak. He feels small, and he lets the taller man move him how he wants to the music.

            They stand in the middle of the dancefloor, Dick’s body pressed against the solid mass against him, lightly swaying to the intense music that’s playing, while everyone dances around them like the electrons around an atom.

            Dick is sure that other people are watching them—after all, this is _Bruce Wayne’s eldest ward_ , leaning against a mystery man in the middle of a charity gala being held by the older man.           

            Dick should pull away, knows he should, but he can only lightly smile. It’s been a while since he’s graced the cover of one of Gotham’s many gossip rags—Bruce should just be happy it took him so long this time—it’s probably a record.

            He shifts his glassy eyes up, tries to discern the identity of the man who’s dancing with him. Almost his whole face is hidden by his mask of choice—it reminds him of The Opera Phantom, one of Dick’s favorite characters when he was growing up because he reminded him of _Bruce_ —and Dick was always Christine, a pretty irresistible little bird. But the mask stretches down, hides his cheeks, and one side looks like it’s crying blood.

            Dick’s eyes fall closed when the song changes, something slower and more romantic, and some people drift away from the dancefloor, while other couples get closer together.

            “This one was always your favorite, right, Dickie-bird?”

            The words are whispered into Dick’s ear and he tenses but doesn’t stop swaying, not wanting to cause a scene in the middle of the ballroom. He knows he should have _known_ , everything makes _sense_ now, and he promises to never drink again but he knows that won’t happen, and he only responds with “Jason.”

            “I like the mask—it’s cute. Very Maya Angelou,” he whispers, smirks, and Dick weakly glares at him.

            “Shut up,” he hisses, lightly gasping when Jason turns him around, pressing them together back to front. His fingers are linked with Jason’s while they sway to the music, Jason’s chin hooked onto his shoulder.

            Dick’s directly facing Tim, a glass of water in the younger male’s hands. He looks a mixture of angry at the situation and ashamed at being caught staring, and he averts his eyes as he takes a sip of his water. Bruce stands in the corner, entertaining a couple of socialites, but he can see that Bruce is glazing at him from his peripheral, and Dick, at least, feels conscious enough to feel ashamed.

            “A caged bird stands on the grave of dreams, his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream; his wings are clipped and his feet are tied, so he opens his throat to sing,” Jason whispers into his ear, so close Dick can feel the smug upturn of his lips against his cartilage. “Isn’t that right, Dickie-bird?”

            Dick shivers and shakes his head, grips Jason’s hands tightly, so his knuckles whiten and his fingers pink. “You don’t know anything,” he hisses, turning his head, and their faces are so close, _too close._

            “Don’t I? I know that we can both see _Daddy_ staring,” Jason purrs against his lips. “Scared I’m gonna set you free.”

            “Because you’re so liberated,” Dick spits, looking at Bruce from the corner of his eye. “You aren’t here to get _Daddy’s_ attention?”

            Dick is proud for a moment, because he knows he touched a nerve. Jason softly growls and squeezes Dick’s hands back, and the angle that his wrists are angled at, crossed in an X in front of his waist, causes him to whimper lightly. “You don’t know _shit_ —”

            “I know that’s why you do anything you do, isn’t it? Why you kill all those criminals, why you came here tonight—you want his attention just as much as I do,” Dick taunts, and he lets out a soft groan when Jason pulls at his wrists again.

            “Better than wearing a tight suit and getting drunk at one of his parties, isn’t it?”

            “I’m not drunk,” Dick counters, letting his eyes fall away from Bruce. He throws his head back, looking up at the patterned ceiling as he sways. He can’t make out any of the designs—as they move, they blur together.

            “Close enough,” Jason whispers, locks eyes with Bruce as he buries his face into Dick’s neck.

            Dick gasps lightly, feels teeth sink into his neck, feels a familiar sucking of skin, is reminded of late nights with Kori in Titans Tower or snuck into his room here.

            He forces himself to remain silent, blushes when Jason pulls off with an unnecessarily loud pop, blows on the mark that Dick is sure that’s been left on his skin. “What the—”

            “Tell Daddy I said ‘hello’, will you?”

            “Tell him yourself,” Dick spits.

            “I just did, delivery boy.” Jason pulls away as suddenly as he’d appeared and Dick barely stops himself from falling backwards onto the dancefloor. He adjusts his collar and clears his throat, walking off of the dancefloor as briskly as he can. He ruffles Tim’s hair as he walks past him, ignoring how pink his cheeks are, and quickly locks eyes with Bruce before he pulls his mask off and runs upstairs to his room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! This will most certainly not be the last thing I write of these guys, because I love them and find all of their dynamics very fascinating. 
> 
> Comment, kudos. Come say hi to me on Tumblr @bloodstainsblue.tumblr.com
> 
> Thank you all, lovelies! <3


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